Names have been changed to protect the embarrassed.

Over Thanksgiving I, the anonymous Woot Writer charged with the writeup for this Wilson 740 Harmonized Mallet Style Putter, visited my in-laws with my wife. This isn’t one of those “my in-laws are so annoying!” kind of stories, though. My in-laws are some of the nicest, most gracious people I’ve ever met. My father-in-law, though, is a giant bear of the most physically imposing man I’ve ever met. He stands six feet…I dunno, forty? He holds a Doctorate in Inorganic Chemistry. He worked on linear accelerators. He owns and captains a fishing boat.

He’s basically a giant, living totem of all the success I’ve never had and fear I never will, standing in silent non-judgment of this weirdo married to his daughter.

So when he invited me to his golf game early the next morning, I froze. I’d been invited before and politely declined; this was my first visit to their place and I had barely memorized everyone’s names. I freaked because I have golfed all of twice in my life and both times were more about the consumption of alcohol than the swinging of sticks. Luckily my wife bailed me out and I didn’t have to go. THIS time, though, was the second invitation. We’re familiar with each other; we’re friendly even. Our small talk isn’t so forced any more. I feel comfortable around the guy. I accepted.

But I reiterated over and over that I was terrible at golf and that he should not expect anything but a day of watching me chase rogue worm-burning drives, sliced wedge shots, and wildly-inaccurate putts.

As we drove to the course my heart quickened; we would be playing as a foursome with two of his buddies: one a former Navy captain, the other a Navy…something. I don’t really remember, but it was almost equally intimidating. In my head I pictured two serious men in dress whites shaking their heads solemnly as I swung and missed the ball on the tee.

Once we reached the course, though, they weren’t there. In fact, the reservation wasn’t on file. We called the next course; no joy. A quick search through his email revealed one of the Navy guys had been pretty vague on the date, and we were actually a week early. “Oops,” my father-in-law said, “want to go get a coffee instead?” And we did. And it was good.

Would the putter have helped? I have no idea; I don’t golf. But I don’t have to worry about it until next Christmas.

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